The Time To Come
by Mahtalie
Summary: Qui-Gon comforts a grieving and lonely Obi-Wan one final time.


Title: The Time to Come  
Author: Maddie-Wan  
Summary: Qui-Gon comforts a distraught and lonely Obi-Wan one more time.  
Email: garbonzo_b@yahoo.com ~ email me! I love email!  
Category: Angst/General  
Rating: G  
Spoilers: Don't read this if you're the last person on the planet who *hasn't* seen TPM!  
Disclaimer: I don't own 'Star Wars', but you guys probably already have *that* one figured out. Oh yeah, and I don't own Enya's song "Exile", either ~ I just happen to think it fits very well with this story. So nobody sue me!  
Feedback: email me, email me! I love getting mail!  
  
  
  
The Time to Come  
  
Cold as the northern winds  
in December mornings,  
Cold is the cry that rings  
from this far-distant shore.  
Winter has come too late  
too close beside me  
How can I chase away  
all these fears deep inside?  
I'll wait the signs to come  
I'll find a way  
I'll wait the time to come  
I'll find a way home.  
  
The air was thick with tension. Lightsabers hummed, reminiscent of a   
hive of Toydarian Stingers. Red and green clashed, crackling and sizzling,   
heating the air to an almost unbearable temperature. Sweat trickled down his   
face. Flashes of red and black danced before his vision and he gripped the   
hilt of his weapon tighter. Helplessness weighed down on him, crushing him,   
almost driving him mad as he watched the deadly waltz being performed before   
him. He stood transfixed, unable to tear his eyes away as the Sith Lord drove  
his evil blade through the great Jedi Master.  
  
"Noooooo!"  
  
Obi-Wan woke with a start, tears streaming down his face, his   
breathing labored. Gulping air like a fish out of water he took in his   
surroundings: there was the dresser, the chair by the open window, the   
writing desk, the door to the adjoining room... he was home, at the Jedi   
Temple, and that meant he was safe. He put a hand to his chest, still feeling  
his pulse race. Taking deep breaths to calm his heart, he wiped the wetness   
away from his eyes. 'It was only a dream,' he reminded himself. 'It's   
over... just a dream.'  
  
Obi-Wan turned on the light beside his bed, banishing the shadows   
that lurked in the room... Qui-Gon's room. The young Jedi sighed at the   
reminder. He would never share the quarters with Qui-Gon again, never wake in  
the morning to his Master's voice telling him it was high time he got up,   
never feel the gentle touch to his mind when he was feeling frustrated or   
discouraged. He shook his head to dispell the memories and pulled his tired   
body out of bed.   
  
His bare feet padded softly across the floor to the balcony over-looking  
Coruscant. The city never slept, it seemed, and he could relate. Obi-Wan   
couldn't remember the last time he had slept the whole night through; falling  
asleep was a challenge in itself, and his sleep was frequently interrupted   
with vivid and horrible dreams where he was unable to help his Master, or he   
himself was fighting a black-masked, caped attacker. That dream disturbed and  
puzzled him, for he had no idea who the masked assailant was. He had debated  
speaking to Master Yoda about it but had decided against it in the end. He   
had never told anyone but Qui-Gon about his dreams before, and he just   
couldn't bring himself to talk to anyone else about them. It seemed a   
dishonor to Qui-Gon's memory somehow.  
  
  
'Oh Master!' Obi-Wan cried out silently over the bond he and Qui-Gon \  
had once shared, desperate for an answer. Always before, no matter how many   
cities and planets were between them, they could hear each other's voice. But  
there was no answer, there never would be again. Now, only silence answered   
the distraught Jedi.  
  
'Master!' he called again. "Master, please answer!" he cried aloud   
this time. He sank to the floor, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. "Why  
did you leave me? Why, why now? I'm not ready to be alone!" He choked the   
words out around his sobs. He had not cried since the day he held his dying   
Master in his lap, and now all the pent-up emotions exploded. Anger, sadness,  
guilt - all poured from him in wracking sobs that tore from his chest   
unheeded, unchecked.  
  
'I'm sorry, Qui-Gon!' he pleaded with the silence. 'Please, I need   
you. I can't do this without you. I need you, Master!' He could speak no more  
around his tears and he let them fall.  
  
Time passed, though he knew not how long, before he heard his name   
called. Obi-Wan's breath caught in his throat. There was no one there, but   
Obi-Wan could feel the presence of his Master.   
  
"Qui-Gon?" he whispered, his voice small, afraid he had only imagined  
the voice. And in the silence there was an answer.  
  
Sometime later, as the sun was just peeking its golden rim over the   
edge of the world, Obi-Wan rose from the balcony. He was tired, but the   
weariness had gone from his face and the shadow over his heart had been  
lifted.   
  
He stood in the doorway to Anakin's room and watched with a small   
smile as the boy slept. They had a lot of work ahead of them; he knew it   
wouldn't be easy. But he knew he was capable. He knew now that he wasn't   
alone, he never had been and never would be. Qui-Gon, he knew, would never be  
far away.  
  
He would wait. Now wasn't the time, but he would one day find a way   
home. For now, he had a job to do.  
  
  



End file.
